Things I never said, things I wish I had never thought
by Lena Lawlipop
Summary: I know with a certainty that threatens to kill me that he will not be able to save her. I've seen this happen too many times, and it never ends well, but this is the first time it affects me this much. Not Isabel, is all I can think of. Please, I'll take her place. Not Isabel. / Or, six times Arkarian was jealous of Ethan, and one when Isabel was instead.


Me: takes over two months to write and edit 18k of Guardians of Time fanfic  
Also me: writes and edits 6K in a single weekday

In my defense, this happened because I was rereading book 1 to be able to properly edit those 18K, so look forward to that... sometime next month ORZ

On a different note, the title comes from a quote of another fic of mine that I just really loved when I wrote it? And it's not even in dialogue, but I just love the way Arkarian phrased it at the time, and I feel like he would have a ton of regrets about how he felt during that year-long period of pining. So, yeah. Here's a fic of Arkarian feeling guilty about his own feelings.

Enjoy! (?)

* * *

1

"Her soulmate? Well, of course, that's me! I'm her soulmate!"

The words hit me harder than they should. I've seen them together countless times, and I've read her thoughts in many more occasions than they probably realize. Way more than I ever allow myself to do with others, if I'm being honest. Isabel's thoughts are... different. In any case, I know how she feels about him, she's self-aware enough to know it too. However, Ethan is but a child when it comes to romantic relationships, and he startles at the glare I'm giving him.

"How do you know that?" I can't help but ask, and _I'm_ self-aware enough to know I'm being cold. Isabel's body was empty in my arms not a full minute ago, and I can still feel it, I can still feel my hands shaking while holding her.

Ethan goes on and on about how he has to do it, he will do it, and I can't bear to hear him say they're soulmates once more, so I agree. I hate myself the moment I send him there, and I run to the sphere to watch his trials.

I know with a certainty that threatens to kill me that he will not be able to save her. I barely realize it, but my eyes are full of tears, and when he calls out and she doesn't answer, I break out into sobs. I stop looking, but he keeps calling her name and I think I might throw up. I've seen this happen too many times, and it never ends well, but this is the first time it affects me this much. _Not Isabel,_ is all I can think of. _Please, I'll take her place. Not Isabel._

In a fit of panic, I follow him.

She's a vision.

She always is, but right now, she's the only good thing in a sea of ever changing grey figures. The moment I look at them, they all turn into grotesque imitations of her dead body, and I know what to do.

I call her before I make the conscious decision to. Her name is out of my lips, with a plea, with a prayer. Ethan turns to look at me, but that does not matter.

What matters is that she turns around as well, and smiles at me, and it finally feels like I'm able to breathe, for at least the second it takes me to transport us back home and realize she won't remember what has just happened, or understand it.

I lower my face to cover my tear-stained cheeks with my hair when I lie to her and assure her that the hero she's looking for is, in fact, Ethan. He looks at me with horror in his eyes as soon as she leaves, and I know for a fact that I can't cope with this knowledge while I'm sober.

#

2

_Arkarian!_

Her voice sounds clear and loud, reverberating through the room I'm in, just as soon as I let Ethan go. She's panicked, and I instinctively transport myself to a room with a sphere so I can peer into their world.

I try to excuse myself, thinking she's called out for me, so it should be okay. Under any other circumstances, I tell myself, I would never think of spying on her, in her room, in the middle of the night.

I can't see much. The room is dark, much like the room she was in before she died, and a strong wave of nausea hits me. If she's in danger right now, I can't go there. I can't help her...

I curse in a language I haven't spoken in years, but before I can get any more desperate, she keeps talking, and then Jimmy and her mother run into the room as well. She covers her slip of the tongue easily, annoyed with her brother, and justifiably so. I should be worried about this, probably, but in this moment, as I let the image in the sphere dissipate and go back to the bar to get myself another drink, I can't help but treasure the fact that the first thing out of her lips had been my name, and not Ethan's.

#

3

Ethan comes to see me early next morning, before school. While I know why he's worried, and I appreciate the sentiment, I really don't want to see him. I don't tell him this, though. He doesn't deserve it.

He calls me from before the door to my chambers, and I meet him near the entrance. My head hurts, well, my entire body hurts with a faint ache that has nothing to do with how I've spent the night. It's a soul-deep ache that I'm sure will take a few more days to fade. I can only hope that Isabel isn't feeling it too, that it's only for me to suffer. He seems to notice my headache anyway, because he winces. Or maybe I just look as horrible as I feel.

"Are you okay?" he asks me very softly. I huff. I can't snap and tell him he's being stupid. He means well, I tell myself. I shrug.

"As okay as I think is reasonable, I suppose," is what I end up going for. He seems awkward.

"Can I help somehow...?"

"You can start by just keeping the secret, Ethan. I told you yesterday..."

"Yes, but...!"

"Do you want to help or not?" I interrupt him before he can offer alternatives again. He shuts up, but the pain in his eyes isn't because of my harshness. It's more akin to pity, and I take it, because for once I feel like I deserve to be pitied.

Look at him, the ageless man whom not even his soulmate could stay with.

Fucking lovely.

There's the faint sound of a voice outside, and I don't need to read her thoughts to know who it is. I sigh, ushering Ethan outside.

"She's followed you. If you really want to help, can you maybe not let her see me like this? I'll be fine tomorrow, if you two need anything, otherwise I'll let you know when your next mission is."

He protests, but it's a moot point because by the time we reach the entrance again she's already waiting there. I resign myself to the inevitable. She gasps, though, to her credit, she's polite enough to try and hide her surprise. Then she frowns.

"Er. We're going to be late for school," she says, though she's still looking at me, and for my _life_, I can't look away. It hurts, it takes my breath away and feels like a punch on the stomach at the same time, but I can't look away. She wets her lips, hesitantly, before taking a step closer, and I'm terrified. "May I...?" she starts, raising a hand, and I frown. She blushes a little. "You seem like you could use a hand?" she tries again, and I finally understand what she's getting at. I choke out a laugh, and if any of them realize how forced it is, they don't say it. I shrug.

She places her hand hesitantly on my elbow, and I can't help but shiver. She does as well, but she's already concentrated so she doesn't say anything. The headache dissipates slowly, but perhaps more interestingly, the ache in my soul does as well, slowly but surely, leaving a warmth in its wake that calms me down enough so that when I smile this time, it's a little more honest.

"Thank you," I say. She smiles back, but this time I can read in her thoughts that she has noticed that my headache is more of a hangover than a headache, and she's... curious. Not judgmental, which is always good, but curious isn't that much better in this case. I don't offer an explanation.

"Anytime," is her reply when she realizes I won't say anything else. I find the courage to at least look at her in the eye when I smile.

Ethan waits, but I realize all too quickly what a mistake that had been. I'm vaguely aware of the passing of time, but it feels like my lungs have been glued into place. I can't breathe, and eventually it's Ethan himself who grabs her shoulder to pull her away from me. She shakes herself, and I try not to gasp when I breathe in and a tidal wave of emotions threatens to take me over, threatens to take away any warmth left over from when she'd healed me.

She's laughing at whatever Ethan has just said, which I entirely miss. I manage to wave goodbye, but by the time they go away and I get to close the entrance, the only thing I really remember is the way she's just smiled at him, the way she'd taken his hand when he'd touched her. The little noise in her thoughts when she'd realized it was him, like a happy squeal.

It's not his fault, and I hate myself for thinking it, but I can't keep the thought out of my head.

My own soulmate is in love with my best friend, and for a while, until I get myself together, I _hate him_ for it.

#

4

"You know I love Ethan more than I love most people on this universe?" I ask Jimmy conversationally one day.

The only context for that is that I'm drunk, and I can't be expected to form coherent ideas. Jimmy frowns, and sips from his own drink.

"Yes, I've heard you gush about him before. You're like a proud mama, so what?" he makes fun of me, gently, but I'm inclined to let him. I'm feeling particularly self-deprecating.

"Yes, well, I can't stand seeing him lately. I keep thinking I want to throw him off a cliff, and I hate it."

Jimmy winces, but he doesn't call me out for it.

"Say something," I insist. I reach for the bottle, which Jimmy tries to take away, and then I simply resort to my powers to get another drink. He glares at me.

"You can't just drink yourself to sleep, Arkarian."

"No? Watch me," I tell him. "S'not like I do it always."

"Why today, then?"

"Well, Ethan never comes on Fridays, for starters. And she rarely..." I leave the phrase unfinished, but he gets the idea. Isabel can't come here nearly as often as Ethan, because of Matt's constant vigilance. I shrug. "I'll be a presentable human being by tomorrow... later."

"In the afternoon, yes, when they will most likely visit you."

"Whatever."

He's judging me, so I make a show of downing my drink in one go. It's probably a bad idea, because I feel my head spin a little as I put the glass down, and I close my eyes. I hear him sigh.

"I have a feeling you haven't talked to Ethan about that?" he prods. I snort, debating whether or not another glass will help anything ever. It probably won't, but I drink another anyway. Jimmy takes my glass away after that, and I'm too busy trying to form a sentence to manifest a new one.

"Not his fault," I remind him, or maybe myself.

"You know what you should do?" he tells me a moment later. I wait. "You should teach her how to shield her thoughts. You're the Truthseer here, so really, it's easiest for you."

It takes me a second to process his idea. Or maybe a few seconds. Then I start laughing.

"That wasn't a joke," he starts, but I just shrug. I try to get back my glass, and I somehow manage to.

"No."

"No what?"

"I can't teach her that."

"Pray tell, why?"

"That means I... read her thoughts to see if they're shielded."

I slur a little on the end, but I'm pretty proud to still be able to discuss anything. Jimmy was right about the last drink. Or maybe the last few. It's _fine_. I need the sleep, one way or another. Jimmy is still waiting for an answer, maybe, I'm not entirely sure.

"She thinks about Ethan a lot. I don't really want to throw him off a cliff," I offer, in what I think is a decent explanation.

Whether it is or not, whether Jimmy lets me drink more or not, and how in the world I get back to my bed, are things I don't really remember when the morning comes. The conversation itself is fuzzy in my mind later that day, but I'm sharply and painfully reminded of it when Isabel and Ethan visit on the afternoon and she's telling him how Jimmy has been helping her train how to shield her thoughts in the morning.

If anything, I take it as a good thing that at least she's not thinking that much of Ethan for that afternoon. For once.

#

5

Ethan brings it up one day, and I actually drop the book I'm holding. I wait for him to make fun of me, but when I pick it up and look at him, he just seems concerned. I sigh, manifesting my stools and sitting with him.

"Yes, she's in love with you," I answer him. "Of course she likes you," I add, and he winces so hard that I take pity on him. "Ethan, I knew this already. For better or for worse, I can read her thoughts, I always have been able to. It wasn't news to me all of a sudden when she died."

"Yes, but..."

"Didn't I already tell you? If I could pick a single person for her, I would choose you. You two would make a cute couple, you're a great team, and you make her happy."

I don't continue down that path, because the unsaid 'when I can't' hurts Ethan almost as much as it hurts me. I sigh again.

"I'm worried about you," he says, and the words hurt more than I thought they would. Maybe I should start getting used to that. "You're very good at hiding it, but I think Jimmy is also worried. Isabel has told me he's been coming over a lot. I don't think she's realized it, but I've known you for years, and you can't fool me. What's going on?"

What am I supposed to tell him? That I've been having very conflicted feelings about everything in my life lately? I lower my eyes, and shake my head.

"You're right, it's going too far." Saying it out loud is a little scary, and it seems to surprise him. "I apologize. I'll get my shit together soon, I promise. It's been... a bit more rough than I thought it would, that's all."

"That sounds like sugarcoating it."

"Well, yes."

He winces again.

He doesn't find the words, but he hugs me, and I'm filled with a desperate feeling of sinking. Of falling. I kiss his temple, which surprises him. I guess I haven't done that in years, huh? He's not four anymore, he's not a kid I'm trying to soothe. I don't apologize, however.

"Thank you, Ethan. I love you too," I tell him quietly, and he sighs against my shoulder, squeezing me tighter.

He doesn't know what to say, and neither do I, but the raw affection in his thoughts, in his touch, is enough to put something right inside me that had been off. Like a thorn finally pulled out of a wound, a tiny sliver of pain goes away.

Not fully, not forever. It's still there to gnaw at me the next time he and Isabel come by, it's still there when they go home together, laughing about something or another. It's still there, but it's tamer, and it feels like maybe I will be able to breathe when this entire ordeal is over.

Maybe I will stop occasionally wanting to throw my best friend off a cliff, I tell myself sardonically when Ethan starts hugging me more before going home, especially whenever Isabel has unintentionally said or done something that hurts. Maybe I will, eventually, after all.

#

6

I'm over the moon happy for Ethan when he starts to walk away from the circle, and so is everyone around me, but Isabel beats us all by actually _stepping_ into the circle, Tribunal be damned, and hugging him. Ethan laughs, hugging her back.

I've gotten mostly used to it. It still feels like an ice bucket falling over me, but I manage to keep smiling. Ethan deserves as much; Shaun, who doesn't know, deserves as much. Jimmy glances over at me but seems to buy it, at least enough not to ask out loud, and I ignore his thoughts. I focus on Ethan's instead, in his total elation, and those feelings are enough to bring me back to what really matters.

Lorian tuts, gently, and Lady Arabella ushers them out of the circle so that the rest of us can congratulate Ethan, though I have a feeling they're both just responding to my immediate thoughts, and I make an effort to shield them properly. When Ethan looks up to see us, he looks for me first of all, before even his own father, and when he hugs me the pain subsides again, filed away for later, for some other time, when it won't make Ethan feel bad about it. I hug him, pouring all the love I have for this boy into my touch, and he laughs, he tears up, even. There are honest to goodness truth tears in his eyes when he pulls apart a little and looks me in the eye.

"I did it," he whispers hoarsely. I can't help but tear up a little as well as I nod.

"You did! You deserve it, Ethan, congratulations!"

He deserves it. The praise, the applause, the awards and honors.

He deserves it and, precisely because of that, I hate myself for feeling even the smallest hint of jealousy when Isabel hugs him again, asking him a question about his new ability.

He deserves better than this.

#

Extra

"It wasn't _all_ horrible," I try to soothe her, but she seems skeptic.

Of all the people I ever expected to feel remotely guilty, she had never been one of them. Ethan, sure, it wasn't his fault, but I could see why. Isabel? Not in my wildest dreams.

Then again, the fact that we're here today, simply cuddling on a sofa while talking, slowly getting to finally put our feelings into words, all of this already surpasses my wildest dreams. So maybe it's not that big of a stretch to know that she feels terrible about me having had to hide our soul bond for a year.

"There were moments that made it worth it," I insist. "Obviously, right now is one," I roll my eyes good-naturedly at her thoughts. "But there were moments, even back then."

"Sure," she concedes, blushing a little.

"There was that one time your brother totally snitched you out, for example. That was sweet," I laugh, and she tilts her head. I can't help but grin. "Remember, back when he was kidnapped and he recognized me because you apparently had described my eyes in a dream? That was so cute, I'm so sorry," I can't help but laugh some more, even as, or perhaps especially because she hides her face against my neck when she whines, and her lips press against my skin. I forget how to breathe. It's fantastic.

"Be serious," she pleads a moment later, and I sigh.

"I am. Above anything else in the world, I've always wanted you to be happy. There were moments that made it worth it, when I saw you with Ethan and you were so happy, and I knew I couldn't tell you without breaking the relationship you two had. Your relationship has changed during the last year, but still, it was worth it if you were happy."

"If my brother snitching on me was the best part, I'm sorry to say but it still sounds pretty grim," she mumbles, and I can tell she doesn't know how to even begin unpacking everything she can read behind my words. I sigh, but she's not finished. "I mean, Arkarian, what? I know I used to have a crush on Ethan. At this point, I might as well put it on the national news, everybody already knows. But that was then, and really, it hasn't been the same ever since..." she frowns, thinks back. "Probably since we were kids. We stopped talking for a long time, well, as long as it can get for a sixteen year old," she rolls her eyes at herself, and I don't interrupt her, but I know what she means. "It wasn't the same when he started talking to me again."

"Hmm," is all I feel safe answering, and she seems to read between the lines.

"I wouldn't have minded, at the beginning, and you probably know that," she continues. "Still, the longer we spent together, the less I really saw him like that, and honestly, you should also know that," she grins, and I can't help but chuckle.

"How much do you know about Truthseeing, Isabel?" I ask her, because I'm not sure what Ethan and Jimmy may have told her. She seems surprised by the question, and shrugs.

"Not much," she admits. I nod.

"I can fill you in at some point, but it's not as simple as the concept may seem. In any case, to answer your questions... No, that wasn't the best part. The best part was whenever we got a second or two alone, and I knew I had your attention. Small things like that, or the way you sometimes looked at me, especially after you learned to shield your thoughts and I stopped having the feeling that I was misconstruing everything that you ever thought about," I wince, but I say it. She deserves to know. Yet, judging by her frown, she doesn't quite understand what I mean. That's fine. I'll tell her at some point. "Next," I continue, "I'm trained to keep people at arm's length. If Ethan had had any more time, he would have taught you more in depth as well. It's a skill we learn for missions, but in my case it's also a skill for daily life. I'm supposed to be helpful to other Guardians, but not really supposed to become a friend. Ethan's a special case, most named are, but..." I shrug. "If you've ever felt that I was being cold, er. Well, you're probably right, and I apologize. Still, you'll find I was never really able to push you and Ethan to actually get together, not that it would have been any of my business."

She takes a second to digest everything I've just said. It makes her sad, and I lower my eyes a little, but she doesn't stay quiet for long. She presses another kiss to my throat.

"I sort of figured you weren't interested and didn't think much of it," she says, quietly. "I was kind of obvious, I thought, and you probably had a lot of other options... it must have been awkward to get that from someone as young as me, and all that."

"Yeah, alright, that's something I've heard from your thoughts before, where did you get that idea?" I ask her, a little amused. "The one about me having a lot of other options? I would have thought it was obvious that I don't, not the way normal, aging people do."

"Why would it? I only know a handful of Guardians and two of them have this ability. Well, and now me, as well."

"Two?" I frown, and she frowns as well.

"Well, I guess Marduke wasn't in the Guard, or, not anymore. Whatever."

"Ah," I sigh. "Well, I didn't know him very well, surprisingly enough. I thought I did, but..." I shrug. "He was a great warrior, but we never truly got along. He didn't like that I shared what he considered his most prized ability."

"Yeah well, he's dumb," she dismisses him easily, which makes me laugh as she continues. "Still, Ethan and I..." she sighs again. "We're best friends. Really, I love him like a brother. Maybe like a brother that isn't a pain in the ass, like my actual brother."

That makes me laugh as well. She smiles, I can feel it against my skin, and it makes my stomach do something I haven't felt it do in centuries.

"It's been... probably over a year since I stopped thinking about Ethan like that," she adds, and I can hear the question coming a mile away. "I might be going out on a limb but... did nothing really happen during my first mission?"

"Is that your sixth sense, or...?"

"I keep having dreams, like I'm on the verge of remembering something," she muses. "The only thing I really remember when I wake up is the sound of your voice, and the look in your eyes. I don't know why, or what it means, I just know I keep dreaming about it. It's like I'm missing something, but it's not like my visions, it's just a dream," she insists. I nod.

I've dreamt of the middle realm countlessly since that night, myself. I'm unsure about how to tell her about it, though.

"Marduke tried to kill you that night," I start, and she nods. She pulls away a little to look me in the eyes, but I don't hold her gaze for long. I don't think I can, not yet, not if I want to tell her the full story.

I do, with as many details as I remember. She's shaking by the end, but she's still searching for my eyes when I finally stop talking, and I let her kiss me, softly at first, but then with a soul-deep desperation that threatens to take over us both.

When we separate, we're both breathing hard, her fingers tight on my hair, mine pressed against her back. Her thoughts are unshielded, and in thorough disarray, but I can't hold it against her. Mine are probably much worse.

"You let me believe Ethan had saved me," she says after a few more minutes. I've almost forgotten that we were having a conversation, but that jolts me back to the present real quick. I open my mouth to make an excuse, but then just sigh and nod.

"It was... it was the right thing to do at the time. You had a convenient puppy crush on him and it was the easiest explanation that you would believe in."

"Me? What about you? I don't think I would have been able to..."

"Believe me, it was the hardest decision I've had to take in my life," I assure her. She sighs.

"If anything, I appreciate that you didn't tell me I had died right that night. I think it would have freaked me out."

"That was the other side of the coin, but to be frank, I barely thought about it at the time. My main concern was..." I stop, but she knows what I mean, and she kisses me again.

She kisses me like she's trying to make it better, like she's trying to heal a phantom ache in my soul. And she does. Somehow. She makes it all better. I hold her, resting my forehead against hers, and closing my eyes.

"I just can't believe..." she muses, a while later. I'm almost reluctant to go back to the conversation.

"Hmm?"

"Have you really spent a year thinking I might date Ethan?"

"Not really," I admit. "I thought you might, but Ethan was pretty clear about his own feelings, especially since he knew all along that you and I were soulmates. I mean, he was there when you died, and he realized pretty quickly that he didn't like you that way."

"Right..."

"For what is worth, he was the one who didn't hesitate to go find you, romantic feelings or not," I offer, and she laughs.

"You wouldn't have?" she asks, and I know she intends for it to be light-hearted, but I can't lie to her. I shake my head.

"I've seen a lot of people try before. I can't stop them from trying, but it often leaves them heartbroken. I admit it's the first time I see someone actually turn around at the sound of a voice," I tell her, and her eyes widen.

"You've tried to call people before?" she asks, and there's not a single trace of jealousy in the question. It almost makes me feel self-conscious. I shrug.

"Yes and no. I've accompanied people there before, and when they failed, many begged me to try instead. I've called out to others, but I never..." I breathe, feeling my cheeks redden a little. "It's never felt this way, if that's what you're asking."

"It wasn't, but it's nice to know," she answers frankly. I smile. "So what happens to those who don't turn around?"

"They become part of the middle realm forever, and take the shape of the fears of the living. Ethan saw things like giant animals, and accidentally thought of Marduke, invoking him there. By the same token, if you really believe they don't exist, they won't."

"What did you see?"

"Your body."

She blinks, then seems to realize I mean it literally. She frowns.

"Dark," she murmurs, and I arch an eyebrow.

"Pot and kettle? I've heard your thoughts, Isabel. For better or for worse, we both know what it's like to have your soulmate almost dead in your arms."

She shivers so violently I immediately feel bad for bringing it up. I pull her closer.

"So you can imagine it wasn't great to see the shades of the middle realm," I conclude. "And so let's never think about that again, alright?"

"I'm fine," she mutters, but apparently agrees because she doesn't push it. "Why Ethan? I mean, why did you want me to be with Ethan if I couldn't be with you?"

"In case you're blind, you two are cute together," I tell her, and she rolls her eyes so intentionally I can hear it in her thoughts. "You've been best friends since you started talking, you're approximately the same age, you live close together, you get along well, and I know he would take care of you, he's got a good heart. If there was anyone I would trust with something like this, it would have to be Ethan. I would trust him with my life," I tell her. She nods, with a small smile.

"Ethan is great. I would trust him with my life too. But," she shakes her head. "I don't think we would have been that good of a couple."

"Maybe, maybe not, given enough time, but I never meant to force it one way or another. I was just happy that you two had each other, in whatever way you did. Even if he was to be just your friend, I was glad you had him around."

"That's very noble of you," she murmurs, and I shrug.

"I felt horrible about it for months," I admit, and she looks up.

"What do you mean?"

"Ethan is my best friend too. I can count on my fingers the amount of people I would trust more than Ethan. And yet..."

I swallow down the knot in my throat, shake my head. I don't know if I can say it out loud, but thankfully she seems to piece it together after a second.

"Were you jealous of Ethan?" she asks, softly. She's not being judgmental, but it feels like a slap. I breathe for a moment, before nodding. She nods as well. "In a funny and ironic way, you know, that makes two of us?"

That makes me laugh, a sound I'm not expecting to make, and ends up being more like a snort. I wait for her to explain.

"Well, he's known you for years. It's obvious how well you know him, though funnily enough, he doesn't seem to know you as well in return, or he hasn't felt like sharing," she shrugs. "In any case, you two are very close, and you've spent a year trying to keep me at bay, so you can imagine it was a little... well, discouraging."

"That's hilarious. You should tell him, he would have a field day laughing at us for being jealous of the same person for entirely different reasons."

She laughs as well, and snuggles back against my neck with a contented sigh. I agree with the sentiment.

"Does he know?"

"About me? I assume so, it's not like I've kept it from him."

"Really? He never..."

"Of course he wouldn't tell you."

"No, I mean he never seemed to stop talking to you, or told me to stop coming to visit together, or..."

"Of course he wouldn't," I repeat, with a sigh. "It wasn't his fault, it never has been. I told him how I felt, but I also made sure he knew he wasn't doing anything wrong. I'm not an asshole, Isabel."

"I know you're not. It just seems like the thing to do, you know, because sympathy."

"Maybe I'm going out on a limb, so correct me if I'm wrong," I start, and she looks up when she hears the smile in my voice. I raise an eyebrow. "But do you have the impression that leaving us alone would have been that much better?"

She's silent for a second and I look at us, half sprawled in a corner of a sofa that's definitely big enough for two. She starts laughing again and shakes her head.

"Guess not."

"It would have been a bit better when you figured out how to shield your thoughts, but still, not the best idea. If anything, I'm glad he didn't."

"Fair enough."

"Ethan has been nothing but supportive all this time," I sigh. "I felt terrible for it, but the first few months I positively hated him, and I think that only made me feel worse."

Ironically, it makes me feel better to say the words out loud to her, finally. She simply nods.

"I can only imagine..."

"It got better, eventually, thank god for small blessings. He did not deserve... any of it, really. He didn't deserve any of it."

"I'm sure Ethan doesn't hold it against you."

"That's somehow even worse," I mutter, and she chuckles.

"Yeah, I suppose it is. Still, Ethan cares about you, Arkarian. A lot. He was never too talkative about you when I asked, but when we had to travel through the Underworld, he opened up a little more. He has so many memories with you, and he wouldn't get mad at you for something like this. He understood, I think. After all, he and Matt..." she sighs, and I click my tongue.

"God, I didn't even think of..."

"It's fine, like I said, Ethan doesn't hold it against you. What I meant to say is that he wouldn't want to lose you like he lost Matt, you know? Ethan didn't want to, it was all Matt's fault, but I think it still hit Ethan the hardest."

"I remember. He was very upset."

"See. He wouldn't do that to you."

"Ethan is..."

"Ethan is the friend we all want yet do not deserve, and it's hardly our fault, he's just that good of a person," she settles, and I laugh.

She's right, of course.

We're quiet for a little while. She places soft kisses on my neck, my jaw, and I figure she'll realize on her own what she's doing to me, so I let her do as she pleases. It's by the time I'm not coherent enough to swallow a breathy moan that she stops playing with my earlobe to kiss me again instead. She's testing the waters, I can tell that much, but I don't need to keep myself in check, not this time. I _want_ her to do whatever she wants, whatever she's comfortable with, but I also find that I have no wish to rush her. I play with the hem of her sweater, teasing, but not pushing further, and she pulls away on her own time. I smile at her, closing my eyes again in what feels like... contentment.

We will have, if nothing else, time to talk about whatever we want. About us, about our relationship, about Ethan, about life, about love. For now, it seems that talking has given way to feeling, and the hollow I've felt inside me for the past year slowly fills up to the brim, overflowing, overflowing, overflowing, spilling out me through my touch ability, and Isabel sighs, leaning into my chest.

We're complete.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D

If you did, please consider leaving a comment, they're greatly appreciated!

If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, kyokotsukuyomi, the comments section down below, or my ao3 LenaLawlipop. Don't be shy!

Love,

~Lena


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